times grew wider. Those traditions, indeed, were lost, and although a
few attempts were made--by Horace Walpole and others--to revive the
late Gothic style, they only served to show how superficial was the
current knowledge of Gothic architecture, and how futile it is to
apply imitations of a departed style, merely by way of ornament, to
buildings which have no affinity to those from which inspiration is
sought. These attempts at revival were not numerous, they lay outside
the normal course of design, which steadily followed the classic lead
which had been first given whole-heartedly by Inigo Jones. But the
virility of Jones, Wren, and Vanbrugh had gradually declined, and
domestic architecture had become correspondingly tame. It was highly
respectable, much of it was refined, all of it was safe and rather
uninteresting. To us it is so correct and well-meaning that it escapes
the fate of much that succeeded it--the exciting of violent dislike.
Indeed, after the lapse of more than a century, interest in it is
reviving, and it bids fair to acquire enthusiastic admirers. It was
otherwise when it was in full possession of the field, for in spite of
its excellent qualities it roused the fury of Pugin and his followers,
and was overwhelmed by the Gothic revival.
[Illustration: FIG. 11.--Gwydyr House, Whitehall, London, 1796.]
There was no essential change in the general treatment of houses
all through the last half of the eighteenth century, as may be seen
by comparing Gwydyr House, Whitehall (Fig. 11), which was built
in 1796, with Wolterton Hall (Fig. 8), built in 1736; that is,
the general effect is obtained by the same means. The windows are
carefully proportioned, and the eaves cornice is the only important
shadow-producing feature. At Gwydyr House the attic story is a
later addition. The windows in both cases are plain, unornamented
oblong openings. In the house No. 32 St James’s Square (Fig. 12),
which was built in 1815, and is the last of this particular series
of illustrations, while the main effect is the result of the window
proportion and the eaves cornice, some additional interest is given by
the form of the first floor windows, by the arches in which they are
placed, and by the balconies.
[Illustration: FIG. 12.--No. 32 ST. JAMES’S SQUARE, LONDON,
1815.]
Although there was no great originality in the manner in which
the bulk of the houses was handled at this time, there was much
ingenuity bestowed upon the detail and ornament. The brothers Adam,
who were busy during the last quarter of the eighteenth century,
have given their name to a particular style of decoration, marked
by much delicacy and refinement, but they did nothing of first-rate
importance in architecture itself, nothing that set men building in
a fresh way. After them came the Greek influence, which affected a
number of designers. The ambitions of Napoleon absorbed the attention
of nearly the whole of Europe, but Greece was at that time exciting a
considerable amount of interest, which was fostered to a certain extent
by the poetry of Byron. But although he hymned the Isles of Greece and
burning Sappho, but little of her fire found its way into the forms
which her country lent to England. Then there followed the Age of
Romance, inaugurated by the great Wizard of the North; all the world
fell in love with ancient castles and old houses. Scott’s magic wand
lifted the veil from the past, and disclosed scenes of bygone manners,
affecting, amusing, and exciting, thus making easy the advent of the
Gothic Revival.
This revival broke the thread of classic tradition in house building,
a thread already attenuated. It brought about the chaos of style which
marks the nineteenth century. But it set men thinking; it gave them a
fresh start; it led them to attack problems in a logical way, to adapt
their designs to circumstances instead of insisting that circumstances
must conform to established laws of design. In a word it produced the
wide outlook and the reasonable attitude of adapting means to the end,
which are the hope of architecture to-day.
Having thus given a bird’s-eye view of the course followed by house
builders during the whole period under consideration, we will now
proceed to an examination in detail of the various stages of its
development.
[Illustration: FIG. 13.--BOLSOVER CASTLE, DERBYSHIRE.
ENTRANCE DOORWAY TO THE GALLERY.]
II
THE CHANGE IN STYLE
During the seventeenth century a very significant change took place in
architectural design. All through the mediæval period design seems,
so far as our knowledge enables us to form an opinion, to have been
impersonal, the result of a number of men working together, each
concerned with the portion affecting his particular trade. It is
probably true that some one individual controlled the general scheme,
and gave an oversight to the work of the others; but not in such a
sense as to have been entitled to be called the “architect,” as we
understand the term. To us the architect is the individual who not only
provides the plan, not only puts into practicable form the ideas of the
employer, but also designs most of the details. He not only informs
the various artificers that particular work is required in particular
places, but he also provides them with drawings showing what the work
is to be, and how it is to be fashioned. His influence to-day is much
wider and much more intimate than it was in the Middle Ages, the ages
which produced our cathedrals, our ancient churches, castles, and
manor-houses.
The term “architect” occurs very seldom either in literature or in
documents previous to the seventeenth century. Shakespeare uses the
word once; in contracts of Elizabeth’s time it appears seldom, if
ever; although the documents refer to the provision of design as well
as workmanship. In the numerous books published for the guidance of
designers in building matters during the reigns of Elizabeth and James,
it appears now and then: but the appeals which these books made on
their title-pages and in their prefaces to those for whom they were
written, were addressed primarily to artificers and only incidentally
to architects, who seem to have been included in order to catch a
possible purchaser. The reason for the absence of the term is obvious:
there were hardly any people who called themselves architects.
The publication of these books is itself a sign of the change which was
coming over the methods of design. Hitherto design had been a matter
of tradition, preserved by guilds, handed down from father to son or
from master to man. The horizon of a mediæval workman was limited: he
neither knew nor cared much for what was being done in distant lands.
His style was influenced by local considerations, and although he
conformed to the general changes which affected the whole of Gothic
architecture, there was usually a local flavour about his work. The
difference in character between the work in Norfolk, Northamptonshire,
and Somerset is obvious at first sight: but a closer scrutiny will
often reveal local variations in those districts themselves.
Why were these books published, and what kind of architectural style
did they illustrate? Did they bring before the eye of the designer
masterpieces of Gothic architecture, or details of Gothic work? Not at
all: no book illustrating Gothic architecture was published till the
end of the eighteenth century.[1] There was, in truth, no need for such
a book: the mediæval workmen had their own traditional knowledge, and
it concerned them not at all to learn how the workmen in Germany or
southern France or Spain differed in method from themselves. They gave
no thought to such matters, nor did they think of themselves as being
concerned with architecture; they merely built in the manner of their
fathers.
But although the successors of the mediæval craftsmen in the
mid-sixteenth century shared their predecessors’ apathy in respect of
what was being done abroad, it was otherwise with those for whom they
worked--the great men who were building fine houses all over the land.
To these had come new ideas in relation to their buildings. They had
heard of the splendid work that for years had been executed in Italy:
some of them had seen it; monarchs and wealthy nobles had even brought
foreign craftsmen over to exercise their skill in the northern parts
of Europe. The Italian manner was a novelty in this land of Gothic
traditions, it was unlike anything to which England was accustomed. But
the new fashion became popular. Employers demanded the novel detail
in their houses; the foreign artists were not numerous, and so the
English workmen had to supply the best imitation they could contrive
on a scanty training. Here came the opportunity for the bookmakers.
They showed the way in which Italian buildings were designed; they
illustrated the “Orders” which gave those buildings their distinctive
character so far as appearance went; they showed how classic detail
might be applied or perverted to meet the exigencies of buildings which
had a Gothic parentage. The books, therefore, were published in order
to help designers who aimed at working in the new classic style.
The effect, of course, was to foster that style at the expense of the
native Gothic. It is true that books were not widely distributed; there
was not in those days the rapid dissemination of ideas that there
is in our own. But if anyone wanted a book about building, he could
only find such as dealt with classic architecture. Hence in a short
time the operations which had hitherto been thought of as building,
began to be thought of as Architecture, and the only architecture that
was formulated was classic architecture. The idea of that art became
inseparably connected in the minds of men with classic expressions of
it. Thus it came about that in the course of half a century people of
culture regarded all Gothic buildings--even the noblest--as barbarous,
and not worthy the name of Architecture.[2] The “Gothic order,” as it
was called, was merely a “fantastic and licentious manner of building.”
It was only a small proportion of the actual workmen who were able to
study books; the rest picked up the new manner from such foreigners
as they met, from work which they saw as they moved about, and
occasionally, perhaps, from verbal description. Some worked all their
lives on the old lines. One result of the difficulty of imbuing the
workmen with the requisite knowledge was that some of the men whose
duty it was to overlook buildings--the surveyors--made a point of
studying the new style either through books or by foreign travel or
both. They rendered themselves familiar with classic detail, and were
thus enabled to give the desired character to the buildings under
their charge. They gradually became more and more responsible for
design in the various branches of the building trades, and thus grew
to be architects as well as surveyors. The inevitable tendency was for
architectural design to become more personal, and for its results to
become less like a spontaneous growth of the land.
The number of architectural books published was not in reality very
great; they were mostly of foreign production, and probably few
copies found their way into England. The earliest were printed in
Italy during the closing years of the fifteenth century. By the
middle of the sixteenth century there were, perhaps, half a score in
existence, some in Italian, some in French. These were obviously of
no use to unlettered workmen, but they were appreciated by men of
learning, and were studied by some of the surveyors of the time. One
or two Englishmen had produced treatises on architecture by the end
of the century, but their direct effect on English design can hardly
be traced. It is, indeed, unwise to look to any of the books of the
time for direct and immediate influence; their effect seems to have
been gradual. As may be supposed, it would be the illustrations which
would have the greatest weight, for they would be intelligible to
men unacquainted with the language of the text. The more important
treatises confined themselves largely to drawings of the orders, but
a few smaller books, published by Germans and Dutchmen, gave many
illustrations of particular features such as doorways, windows, and so
forth, and these appear to have appealed more powerfully to English
workmen and to have influenced in some degree the appearance which they
imparted to their details.
In another and different direction some of the French books would seem
to have had an interesting effect. Philibert de l’Orme and Androuet
du Cerceau had published remarkably fine illustrations of the more
important buildings then recently erected in France. It is certain
that John Thorpe, who was the most accomplished and ingenious of the
English surveyors of his time, had studied du Cerceau’s books, and it
is quite conceivable that, fired by such an example, he may himself
have contemplated a similar production for England, and that to this
idea is owing the very interesting collection of drawings now preserved
at the Soane Museum. But however this may be, it is clear that some of
the men who were concerned with the design of large houses thought it
worth while to preserve their drawings, for, in addition to the Thorpe
collection, there is that other collection by Thorpe’s contemporary
and successor, Smithson; while in later years are those connected
with the work of Inigo Jones, John Webb, and Wren; and in still later
times Campbell, Gibbs, and other architects made a point of publishing
illustrations of the buildings which they and their contemporaries had
designed.
[Illustration:
Ground Floor. Upper Floor.
FIG. 14.--MY LORD SHEFFIELD’S HOUSE.
From the Smithson Collection.]
[Illustration: FIG. 15.--GROUND AND UPPER PLANS OF A HOUSE,
NOT NAMED.
From the Smithson Collection.]
But although we may perhaps see in the books of the sixteenth century
the genesis of our own English architectural publications, their
immediate interest lies in the fact that whatever was published
about the beginning of the seventeenth century dealt with classic
architecture, and that anyone who sought in books for information
about building, found nothing about the old Gothic detail, but only
instructions how to design in the classic style.
The Thorpe collection of drawings is well known, and belongs to the
order of things which was passing away. But the Smithson collection is
but little known, and as it forms a link between what was passing and
what was approaching, it will be of interest to say a few words about
it, and to give a few illustrations from it.
Of Smithson, as of his predecessors in his calling, very little is
actually known. He seems to have belonged to a family of architectural
designers, the members of which have been rather confused by Walpole
and other writers who have referred to them. The facts seem to be
that of his parentage there are no records, although chronology would
admit of Robert Smithson, of Wollaton, being his father; his own
name was John, he had a son named Huntingdon, a grandson named John
and a great-grandson named Huntingdon. He himself died in 1634, and
his son Huntingdon in 1648. They were both buried at Bolsover, in
Derbyshire, and an inscription over the grave of the son speaks of
his “skill in architecture.” The two have been confused with each
other, but their separate identity has recently been made clear.[3]
According to Walpole, in his “Anecdotes of Painting,” “John Smithson
was an architect in the service of the Earls of Newcastle. He built
part of Welbeck in 1604, the riding-house there in 1623,[4] and the
stables in 1625; and when William Cavendish, Earl and afterwards Duke
of Newcastle, proposed to repair and make great additions to Bolsover
Castle, Smithson, it is said, was sent to Italy to collect designs.
From them I suppose it was that the noble apartment erected by that
duke, and lately pulled down, was completed, Smithson dying in 1648.[5]
Many of Smithson’s drawings were purchased by the late Lord Byron from
his descendants who lived in Bolsover.” On Lord Byron’s death the
drawings were purchased by the Rev. D’Ewes Coke, and they are now in
the possession of his descendants at Brookhill Hall.
Many of the drawings have no title or other means of identifying them;
but such as have go to show that Smithson, who, it would seem, was not
only buried but also lived at Bolsover on the north-east border of
Derbyshire, had a considerable local practice, as well as a certain
amount of work in London. The riding-house and stables at Welbeck,
mentioned by Walpole, are both in the collection, and there are also
several drawings relating to Bolsover Castle.
The buildings which go to make the “castle” may be divided into three
groups: First, there is the castellated portion, built on the site of
the old keep and begun in 1613: this part is still in good repair.
Then there is a long range on the terrace--the “noble apartment”
mentioned by Walpole. This was built by Sir William Cavendish,
afterwards Duke of Newcastle, who presumably found the older building
too small. Its principal apartment was a magnificent gallery, but, so
far as its ruinous state permits the other rooms to be made out (and
among them was a kitchen), it would appear to have been a completely
equipped residence. On the view of the castle which adorns the Duke
of Newcastle’s book on Horsemanship, this building is called “La
Gallerie.” The third group comprises the riding-house and its adjuncts,
which adjoin the gallery at its western end.
The few drawings in the Smithson collection which refer to Bolsover
are all, except one, connected with the castellated portion, and they
go to prove that John Smithson must have been concerned with that
particular building. But there is one drawing of a large doorway (No.
40) which closely resembles the central doorway on the terrace front of
the gallery, and the general detail of this building, which is large in
scale, heavy and rather spoilt by laboured freaks, is akin to much else
that is to be found among the Smithson drawings. This gallery block
is evidently of two dates. The eastern portion has a certain amount
of detail in the simpler style of the Jacobean period, while that of
the western half is more laboured and contorted. At the eastern end
are five small projecting stones bearing initials and dates; one of
them has on it H. S. 1629, and may conceivably commemorate Huntingdon
Smithson. But as it has four neighbours with other initials and the
dates 1629, 1630, it would appear that in any case he was only one
out of five persons entitled to recognition. However, the evidence
of tradition, the date-stone and the drawings clearly point to the
Smithsons being responsible for the design of the buildings generally,
and it may well be that the influence of the father is visible in the
earlier and simpler work, and that of the son in the grandiose gallery,
with which he may have been busy at some time between his father’s
death in 1634 and the outbreak of hostilities in 1642. The riding-house
is much quieter in treatment than the gallery, and its detail is more
refined. In spite of the tradition that the designs were collected in
Italy, the work shows more affinity to Dutch models than to Italian, as
may be gathered from the illustrations (Figs. 13, 16).
The riding-house at Welbeck (Fig. 20) follows the established lines in
its treatment; it has steep gables with finials, mullioned windows, and
an open hammer-beam roof: the very heavy pediments over the doors are
in keeping with those at Bolsover, and with many other details in the
collection, and they show how crude Smithson was in his treatment of
classic features. It is important to bear this in mind, because he may
be considered (although he had an uncommonly heavy hand) as typical of
the majority of English designers before the influence of Inigo Jones
began to be felt.
Smithson’s house-plans are of great interest, inasmuch as they belong
to the order of things which was shortly to pass away. Some of them
follow the traditional lines which made the hall the principal
apartment of the house, placing it between the family rooms and the
servants’ quarters. The plan “for My Lord Sheffield’s house” is an
example of this arrangement (Fig. 14). It shows the rooms grouped in
the old way round a courtyard, which had to be traversed in approaching
the hall from the front door. The hall itself was entered through the
screens at its lower end, and was flanked at its upper end by the
parlour and other family rooms, and by the grand staircase. On the
opposite side of the court were the kitchen, pantry, and other rooms
for the service of the house. In the four corners of the court were
square turrets containing subsidiary staircases. On the upper floor
(Fig. 14) the chief rooms were the dining-chamber, placed as far from
the kitchen as the limits of the house would allow, and the long
gallery. The fact of a special room being set apart for dining itself
indicates a fairly late date in respect of this ancient type of plan.
As my Lord Sheffield was created Earl of Mulgrave in 1626, the plan
must be prior to that year, but the house was probably not more than
ten years old when the change of title took place.
[Illustration: FIG. 16.--Bolsover Castle, Derbyshire. The
Riding-House.]
The other specimen of Smithson’s planning is one of the H type,
with the hall in one of the wings (Fig. 15). This is a departure
from the old arrangement, which would have placed the hall in the
central block, and thus have brought the buttery (which opens from
the screens) into close touch with the kitchens. The hall becomes
here more of a passage-room and less of a living-room than under
the ancient disposition. There are no sitting-rooms for the family
on the ground floor, but the principal staircase leads to the great
chamber on the upper floor, thence to the long gallery and a distant
“withdrawing-chamber,” as well as to the chapel and several bedrooms.
[Illustration: FIG. 17.--Elevation of a House, not named.
From the Smithson Collection.]
Both these houses are rigidly symmetrical in their external treatment,
and it is interesting to note how, in addition to preserving such
old-established rooms as the great chamber and long gallery, they
depend for their external effect upon old features, such as mullioned
windows, arcaded entrances, turrets, and the breaking up of the various
fronts with substantial projections and large bay-windows. These
devices were customary among the designers of the time of Elizabeth and
James I., but they were gradually to be superseded by other methods.
There are no elevations preserved which fit these plans, but Smithson
has left a number of specimens of his way of dealing with the exterior
of his buildings. The most important in size is illustrated in Fig. 17.
It follows the usual lines of the period with its mullioned windows,
large horizontal cornices, arcaded entrance, balustraded parapets, and
curly central gable; but it is rather clumsy compared with most of John
Thorpe’s elevations. So, also, is the elevation of “My Ladye Cookes
house in Houlborn” (Fig. 18) to which additional interest is lent by
the fact that it is dated 1619. This front, with its large dominating
pediment and circular-headed window has a later touch about it, and has
lost most of the light-hearted piquancy which characterises the work of
the preceding fifty years.
[Illustration: FIG. 18.--Lady Cook’s House in Holborn, 1619.
From the Smithson Collection.]
[Illustration: FIG. 19.--PERSPECTIVE OF PALACE, WHITEHALL.]
[Illustration: FIG. 20.--THE RIDING-HOUSE AT WELBECK, 1622.
From the Smithson Collection.]
[Illustration:
FIG. 21.--The Italyan grate over the Watter. A newe
Italyan wyndowe, the gallerye at Arrundell house. The newe
Italyan gate at Arrundell house in the garden there, 1618.
From the Smithson Collection.]
The hankering after Italian detail which had affected English designers
in an increasing degree for many years finds expression in the Smithson
drawings, among which are several “Italyan” windows and doors, an
“Italyan” gate (Fig. 21), and one or two “pergulars.”